


Little Things

by fakebodies



Category: Tron (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Multi, its just sickeningly sugary fluff thats ALL, the cute poly fic we deserve! yeehaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 14:06:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17684900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakebodies/pseuds/fakebodies
Summary: Four people in love, spending an evening together — told from Roy's POV





	Little Things

It’s the little things that count.

That’s what Roy always thought, anyways. Coming home to the apartment and getting to see exactly what everyone else had been up to. The kettle is on the stove; that’s Lora. There’s a coat on the floor; Flynn, naturally. He can hear a keyboard clicking; Alan, still working even during his time off. He kicks off his sneakers and hangs up his coat like a civilized human before going to track down everyone else who’s home. Flynn is probably at the arcade, despite his discarded coat— the man had famously wandered outside barefoot in the middle of winter once. Flynn’s version of ‘running on autopilot’ was a sight to behold.

Like he’d expected, Lora is perched on the couch, a book in one hand and a mug of tea in the other. He pecks her on the cheek as he passes, and she fixes him with a fond smile. He and Lora understand each other the most, he thinks. At the very least, Alan and Flynn manage to exasperate them both, constantly. They’ve definitely bonded over their two favorite men. The cramped, communal office is Alan’s home. Roy leans over his shoulder to watch him work; Alan’s code never ceased to fascinate him. His own poor programs couldn’t hope to reach the level of complexity Alan’s basic ones hit.

Instinctively, Alan turns his head for a kiss, but his eyes never leave the computer screen. Roy isn’t bothered; Alan has always been dedicated to his programs, and Roy gets that. In an hour, Alan would get up and make them all dinner. It was Flynn’s turn to help, but even if he showed up on time that usually meant heating up frozen garlic bread or other menial tasks. Kevin Flynn was not known for his culinary genius, and for good reason. Wandering off again, Roy makes his way to their bedroom. Changing into his pajamas, Roy rejoins Lora in the living room. It only takes a few minutes before they’ve drifted together, Lora tucked against his side, still engrossed in her book while Roy watched reruns of gameshows.

An hour later, regular as clockwork, Alan greets them on his way to the kitchen (the man’s internal clock is as impressive as his programs).  Soon the apartment is filled with the scent of roast chicken and herbs, mashed potatoes cooking on the stovetop and carrots cooking in the pan along with the chicken. Roy gets up from the couch, giving Lora an apology kiss before walking right up to the stove and sticking his finger in the mashed potatoes before Alan can react— they’re delicious, as usual, and the fingerfull he snuck was well worth getting smacked by a wooden spoon.

Miraculously, just as the three of them are sitting down to eat, Flynn comes bursting into the apartment. The one good habit they’ve successfully managed to instill in him: his shoes are off in the doorway. His poor coat, however, is tossed haphazardly behind him as Flynn goes to dish himself up some food. They all get a kiss before Flynn seats himself, and even though Alan and Lora are trying their best to look disappointed, Roy smiles warmly. They all gave Flynn crap, but he wouldn’t be Flynn if he wasn’t all over the place. He compliments Alan on the delicious chicken, congratulates Flynn on a new high score, and happily listens as Lora tells him about the chapter she’d been reading. By the end of the meal, they’re all smiling.

The bathroom is barely big enough for two people, but as they get ready for bed that night they all manage to squeeze in. As they jostle each other out of the way of the sink, fighting for a chance to rinse their mouth out or wet a wash cloth, Flynn sneaks his hand beneath the faucet and flicks the water in Alan’s face. Flynn shrieks when he’s met with a face-full of sopping wet washcloth, and soon they’re all laughing, falling over each other as they collapse into bed. Lora has her head on Alan’s chest, who’s resting his hand over Roy’s heart. Flynn has his head on Roy’s stomach and one leg tangled with Alan’s. One of Lora’s hands finds its way across Alan to hold one of Flynn’s, and Alan winds up with his nose buried in Roy’s curls. The bed is warm, and they’re all together.

Yeah, it’s the little things.


End file.
